Too Little, Too Late
by Jessica and Krystin
Summary: Story By Jessica. True-to-life story based around Margaret, set in the 4077th -- post-marriage, pre-divorce. Graphic imagery and strong language. Carries a heavy message, but an important one. Please leave feedback, I'd like to know what everyone thinks.


                                                            Too Little, Too Late

** This is set after Margaret's and Donald's wedding and before their divorce. This will be painful for some people to read, I'm really sorry for that, I don't wanna make anyone uncomfortable, I just had an idea and I went for it. I, myself, have never been in this situation, but I know people who were. I just felt I had to write it. I don't own the characters (no kidding) and I'm not making money off of this. I know some of the characters may be out of character at times, but I was going more for what goes on in real life than what would've gone on in MASH. Please give me any feedback, good, bad, or indifferent. Thanks.--Jessica **

***NOTE: This is a story by Jessica!!! I (Krystin) only helped to post it.  She deserves ALL of the credit J Awesome Story Jess!!!***  
  


 Donald had a week's R&R and had planned on passing the time at the 4077th. His marriage to Margaret hadn't exactly been loving at this point, tumultuous would be a better way  of describing it. She had learned of his various conquests in Tokyo and at one point they were on the verge of being divorced.

 "Margaret, sweetheart, I love you. I'm coming to the 4077th, I have a week's R&R and I want to spend it with you. Please, I can't be without you," he had pleaded to her.   
 "Donald, I don't know," she replied uneasily, her voice small and quiet as opposed to her usually confident 'Major' tone. Her and Donald's relationship hadn't been doing well lately, his bedroom aerobics had hurt her deeply. Still, however, she harbored feelings for him.

 "Please Darling, I wont take no. I love you."  
 "Um... I guess if this is where you want to spend your R&R, then I can't say no."  
 "Oh Margaret, it'll be great, we'll be together and everything'll be as it was when we were first together. I love you Sweetheart, I can't wait to see you."  
  


********************  
  


Donald arrived bright and early in the morning, Margaret met his jeep.   
"Good morning Darling," he exclaimed as he jumped out and went to greet her. As he went to kiss her and gather her in his arms, she turned her head and broke away from his embrace. 

"Donald, you hurt me very deeply with your affairs, you can't expect to just make everything better by just coming here. It's going to take time."  
   Radar had been standing to the side a few feet away. He pretended not to see the exchange between the couple. "Ma'am, should I bring the Colonel's bags to your tent?"  
   Looking in Donald's eyes, she cleared her throat, "No, Cpl., please bring them to the VIP tent."  
"Margaret...?" Donald whimpered, hoping to pass the week with her, in every marital way possible.  
 "No Donald, you stay in the VIP tent." she replied, the confidence returning to her voice.  
  
                                            ********************

   After Donald had arranged the VIP tent to his comfort, he heard a soft knocking on the door.  
"Please, come in," he called.  
"Donald?" Margaret asked, stepping just inside the door, looking for him in the small tent. He was in the corner arranging some items he's brought. "Oh, I was hoping you'd be ready to get dinner. I was hoping it'd give us a chance to talk."  
He walked over to meet her, "Please, sit down dear," he offered as he guided her to a chair. He kneeled in front if her as she sat, taking both her hands in his, "Margaret, before we go, I just want to make my intentions clear. I wanted to let you know that this week, I want to work on making this marriage work, to make you happy if for no other reason," he professed, "and I'm not leaving until you put this silly divorce business out of your mind," he continued. He squeezed her hands tightly to make his point, she winced as his much larger hands increased the pressure, "I am your husband, you'll never forget that."

    She noticed the strange look of determination came over his eyes. She wanted nothing more than to release her hands from his painful grip, to go to dinner. She managed to slip out one hand and he looked at her expectantly. Not knowing what to say, she placed it on his cheek, his eyes softening at her touch. She began remembering why she had fallen in love with the man and kissed his forehead.   
   "Let's go to dinner dear," Margaret said quietly. Donald rose and turned to open the door.  After he had released his grip on her hands, she instinctively flexed them several times just to move them again. 'That was odd,' she thought as he held the door open for her as she continued flexing her fingers. 'That really hurt... I'm sure he didn't mean to, he was just caught in the moment, I know he didn't mean to hurt me,' Margaret dismissed the idea as she entered the mess tent, a smile plastered on her face.  
  
                                                        ********************

    The rest of Monday had passed, without incidence. Most major arguments had been avoided as they stuck to talking about the small problems in their relationship. But eventually they couldn't avoid some of the bigger problems.  
"No, YOU don't understand, Margaret! _I_ am your _husband_, I bet you don't even know what that word means you stupid little hussy," Donald spat out at Margaret. This fight was about his cheating, as they tried tackling one of the larger issues in the   
relationship.  
"ME?" Margaret squealed incredulously, "_I'm_ the hussy?? You've practically slept with half the women in the Korean theater and you're calling ME a hussy??"  
"You were one hell of a whore when I met you, you'd slept with so many generals, you've had more stars in your bed than there are on the goddamn flag!"  
"That was before I married you, you lecherous bastard, how dare you? How dare you treat me like a piece of trash?"  
"Don't you realize, Margaret dear," Donald replied, venom dripping off his voice, "you ARE trash, and everyone knows it. You're nothing but a joke and a quick lay to everyone back in Tokyo."   
Margaret was at a loss for words, but where her mouth had failed, her body had picked up. She smacked him squarely across the face.  
Donald looked up at her, stunned for a moment, then the rage flooded into his eyes.  
"YOU STUPID LITTLE BITCH!" he exclaimed as he touched his lip gently, noticing the blood on his fingers. He grabbed Margaret's arms roughly, shaking her, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? I'M YOUR GODDAM HUSBAND, YOU NEED TO LEARN A LITTLE RESPECT!" He smacked her roughly and then tossed her small frame to the floor.  
   She kept her eyes on the floor, tugging her hair behind her ears then wiping away the tears that were streaming down her face. He paced around the room, trying to calm down.   
"You see what you made me do? Why did you make me do this??" Donald questioned.  He flopped in a chair and looked over at his wife. She was still staring at the floor, trying to stop crying, afraid to speak and inflame the man all over again.  
After a few minutes, Donald spoke again, "Oh Margaret, I'm sorry Margaret, I've been a fool. Please, I love you, please stop crying sweetheart, I promise, it'll never happen again."  
Hearing this Margaret looked up at him in disbelief. He slid off the chair and sat behind her on the floor, pulling her close against him. Feeling his touch again she tried to fight, punching at his chest, but she was weak from earlier. Donald pulled her closer to him, held her tighter against him. "It's ok Margaret, I'm so sorry, I am. I promise it wont happen again, I love you so much," he whispered into her hair. Slowly she put her head against his and continued sobbing. Oh, how she wanted to believe him.

********************  


    The next morning there was a knock at her door. She checked her appearance in the mirror one more time. "Who is it?" she asked while applying more makeup.   
"It's Hawkeye, may I come in?"  
"Oh... Hawkeye, um yeah.. come in," she sputtered as she checked herself once more.  
Hawk entered the tent, ducking under the door frame. "One of these days this thing'll take my head off," he said with a laugh.  
Margaret forced a small laugh, her back to him still.  
"So, I was just wondering what's up, you missed this morning's meeting. I just wanted to see if you were feeling ok-" Hawk's words were cut short as Margaret had just turned to face him. Hawk's mouth hung open as he first noticed the large bruise on Margaret's cheek.   
"What the hell happened to you Margaret??" he exclaimed as he rushed to her side.   
"Oh, this?" she asked innocently while touching her face, looking at him finally. "Oh, I had, um, reached for my soap in the shower yesterday, um, and I slipped a little," she explained, avoiding his eyes.  
"Margaret," Hawk said softly, "did Donald do this to you?"  
"What?" she looked at him incredulously, "You're mistaken _Pierce_, I told you already, I slipped in the shower!" Margaret stood, hands on her hips looking ever the Major Houlihan as they were all accustomed to. The only thing betraying her tough stance were the tears welling up in her eyes. She quickly turned her back towards Hawk, desperate not for him to see. As she pretended to fiddle with the various brushes and makeup on her dresser, she struggled not to cry.  
    "Pierce," she whispered, "please leave."  
Hawk desperately wanted to hold her, for her to trust him, tell him what really happened. Instead he did as he was told, pausing to look at her again. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead shook his head and closed the door behind him. 'It's not my place to say anything, she doesn't want to talk about it, I should let her alone. I'll check on her again tomorrow. Who am I kidding, no matter what, she wont see how I care, she's in love with that ape Donald.' He leaned his head back against Margaret's door, wishing he could tell her his love for her. He stood there a few minutes, listening to Margaret's quiet sobs, his heart breaking at her pain.  
  
                                                        ********************  
After a while, when no more tears were to come, Margaret washed her face, trying to regain composure. She fixed her hair and applied several layers of makeup in a futile attempt to cover the bruise. 'Well that's as good as it's going to get,' she though with a sigh, 'I guess I'd better get ready to get questions about it today.' Margaret tossed her hair over her shoulders, squaring them back into her more confident posture. She left her tent and entered the mess tent.   
    She got her tray of food, throwing pointed looks to anyone who was staring at her face. After she got coffee, she looked for a place to sit. Seeing Col. Potter, Hawk and Beej sitting at a table, she starts for them. Stopping halfway, she remembered the fuss Hawk had made that morning and sat, instead, at an empty table across the tent. 'What does he know anyway, Donald loves me, Hawk doesn't know anything,' she thought as she picked up her utensils to begin eating.   
Margaret sensed someone behind her and looked up, expecting Hawkeye or maybe Beej or Col. Potter. She wasn't looking forward to being asked about her face so she was relieved to see Donald there instead. "Come on sweetheart, let me take you some place better for lunch," he offered. She stood and cringed slightly as he put his arm around her waist. As they walked out of the tent, she could feel Hawk's deep blue eyes on her.   
  
                                                        *********************  
"Did you see her, Colonel?" Hawk exclaimed as the door to the tent closed behind the couple. "Did you see what he did to her?" He slammed his fist down on the table in frustration.  
"Now Pierce, you don't know that. She claims she slipped in the shower and you have no evidence to the otherwise," Potter replied calmly, trying to control his anger. He sighed, he'd seen happen too many times to too many women but this time it wasn't just a shame. This time he felt a deep rage building inside him. Margaret had become like a daughter to him, he didn't want to see her hurt either, but as he had said, there was no evidence.   
"C'mon Hawk, let's head back to the Swamp, I'm not really hungry anymore," Beej said. He knew how Hawk felt about Margaret, not matter how hard he had tried to hide it.

   They entered the Swamp and Beej fixed them each a martini.   
   "It's just... ugh, I can't even imagine that big ape putting a hand on her. I can't think of it, whenever I do I just want to hurt him, hurt him severely for the pain he's put her through." Hawk confessed, downing his martini.   
Beej was a little startled at his friend's violent urges. Hawk was usually more a pacifist, choosing words over fists as a way to solve problems.   
   Hawk sat in silence the rest of the afternoon, sipping his martini, thinking of Margaret.   
  
                                                        ********************  
Margaret and Donald had spent the afternoon down by the river at a picnic he had planned. The afternoon had been lovely, they hadn't fought at all. Margaret was beginning tofeel less self-conscious about the bruise on her cheek and they headed to Rosie's after dinner. One drink turned into two and into three and soon Donald was inebriated.   
    "C'mon Maaaaargaret, I wanna dance," he demanded, stumbling as he stood. She'd had far less alcohol than he had and knew it was time for him to get some sleep.   
"Donald, I think you should go to bed," she hissed.   
"NO, I wanna dance baby, you're coming with me," he slurred, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the dance floor.  
"Donald, I don't _want_ to dance, you're making a scene, you need to go to sleep," she persisted.   
"Damnit, I want to dance, so you're gonna dance, understand?" he threatened, pulling her roughly to him.   
Margaret was much smaller than he was, she had no choice but to give in and swayed around the room with him, knocking into other couples and several tables and chairs. She looked apologetically to the people they interrupted. After a minute the song had ended and he thankfully released her.   
"Donald, it's time to go, come on, let me help you back to your tent."  
"Ooooh, I see now, want to head back to my tent eh?" he implied as they stumbled across the street back to the 4077th.  
"Yeah sure, whatever," she replied absentmindedly, just wanting to get him safely the rest of the way across the compound to the VIP tent.   
She yanked the door open and together they entered the tent, fumbling in the dark for the light switch. Finally she found it and lit the small room. She half helped him, half tossed him onto the bed. He hit with a thump and was passed out. 'At least he made it this far so I didn't have to drag him,' she thought with a chuckle. She looked at him a few minutes, he looked so innocent, so much like the man she had fallen in love with. She snapped out of her daydream of big houses with white picket fences and decided it was time to head back to her tent. She went over to her husband and started taking off his boots. She straightened him out on the bed and reached over to cover him with a blanket. She jumped when she felt someone touching her hair, but soon saw Donald was awake again. 

    "Well hello, you passed out. I was just going to go once I made sure you were ok," she said softly.   
"Do you have to go darlin', I though you said you wanted to come back to my tent for a little fun," he slurred to her.  
"I said I just wanted to get you back to your tent, I never said anything about me." She went to stand but he had his arm around her, keeping her on the cot.  
"No, I remember, you said you wanted to come back to my tent, you're not backing out now," he said, his hands wandering where they chose over her body. She froze for a second, paralyzed with fear. 

    He had already hit her once, 'But no,' she thought, 'he said he wouldn't do it again, he promised.' She felt a little more confident and said, "No Donald, I want to go back to my tent, please take your hands off me."  
Donald pushed her down on the cot as a reply. He kissed her neck and lips sloppily, trying to take off her shirt.   
"Donald, I said no, I don't want to!" she screamed, squirming under him.   
"Oh, come on, you never said no before, you're just playing hard to get. It's ok Margaret, I'm your husband," he stated while unbuttoning her pants.  
"Donald, dammit I don't want to - STOP! WHAT'RE YOU DOING?!" she exclaimed.   
    "I'M YOUR GODDAM HUSBAND AND THIS IS WHAT I WANT SO SHUT UP AND STOP MAKING IT SO TOUGH!" he commanded as he stripped her panties. He soon had his pants off as well. And he was in her.   
As strong as she was, and even though he was drunk, she was still no match for him. She squeezed her eyes shut and remained still, waiting for him to finish so she could just back to her tent.   
  
                                                        ********************  
After he was done she gathered her clothes, and got dressed quickly. She wanted only to go back to her tent and cry but she was wary of his fists as well. She looked over at him, he was passed out again. She didn't have to worry about him hitting her tonight. She stumbled out into the darkness, the tears streaming down her face cooling from the breeze. She'd made it almost to her door, never lifting her eyes off the ground when she'd knocked into someone. 'Oh hell, I don't want to talk to anyone now,' she thought as she mumbled sorry to the person.  
"Margaret?"   
'Oh no,' she thought. It was Hawkeye.   
"Margaret, what happened? I swear I'll kill him if he hurt you again!" Hawk threatened.  
"No... please... leave me alone," she choked out as the tears kept coming.   
"No, not this time Margaret, tell me what happened."  
She thought back on what had just happened. "...please excuse me," she whispered as she pushed him out of the way. He turned and watched as she collapsed by the bushes next to her tent and promptly lose her dinner. He went over to her and held her hair back, his hand rubbing her back comfortingly.  
"Please Pierce, just leave me alone," she asked, when she could talk again. She made it into her tent and slammed the door behind her. This time he didn't leave her alone.   
"Dammit Margaret, you can't shut me out forever, tell me what happened!" Hawk demanded as he barged into the tent.   
Hawk knew she wasn't going to say anything now, but he wasn't about to leave her alone now. He silently sat next to her and put his arms around her. At his first touch she jumped, nearly knocking him off the cot, but she soon calmed down a little and sunk back against him. Hawk held her close, stroking her hair. "It'll be ok Margaret," he kept whispering to her, letting her lean on him and cry.   
After a few dozen 'it'll be ok's and a few hundred tears, Margaret found her voice again. She looked up at him, wiped her face and smirked. "I should've known better, Hawk, he was so drunk, I'm so stupid, I shouldn't have brought him to his tent. I-," her voice cracked, "I said no...I said I didn't want to but... but he wouldn't stop... he wouldn't....," the tears were streaming again. Hawk reached up and wiped away her tears, not saying anything, just letting her get it out.  
Hawkeye's hatred for Donald Penobscott burned deeper than ever that night as he was filled with a quiet, unyielding rage that was building higher and higher. 'That son of a bitch...God, listen to her, she's blaming herself for this, I can't believe it,' he thought. As much as he hated Donald, he loved Margaret more. He knew she needed him tonight, he wasn't going to leave her. Lt. Col. Donald Penobscott escaped Hawkeye's wrath, at least for the night.   
Hawkeye gently laid Margaret down on cot and he lay down beside her, his arms holding her tightly. He held her as she sobbed through the night, never leaving her side.   
  
                                                        ********************  
*ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL - BAD NEWS, WOUNDED IN THE COMPOUND AND CHOPPERS ON THE PAD - I TOLD YOU IT WAS BAD NEWS*  
Hawkeye woke with a grunt, taking a few seconds to remember where he was. Then he remembered _why_ he was there. It was 7am and normally he'd be sleeping another three hours but there _was_ wounded. Unfortunately, Donald would have to wait, those kids out there needed him more.  
Hawk ran his fingertip across Margaret's ear, whispering, "C'mon beautiful, we've got work now."  
Margaret stretched a little, then rolled over to look at Hawk. She cleared her throat, "Um Hawk... last night... thank you."  
Hawk just looked at her, wanting to kiss her but he knew it would only compound her problems. Right now he had to play the supportive friend, a role he'd been in for a while. 

   "No problem Margaret. But that scumbag husband of yours had better keep away from me." Hawk got up and pulled on his boots. He knew there would be talk when people saw him leaving  
    Margaret's tent this early in the morning, but he prayed it didn't cause Margaret anymore pain from Donald.   
Hawk slipped out the door and headed for triage, 'whew, no one noticed,' he thought.   
Margaret got up, wincing slightly. She was a little sore and unfortunately knew the pain would be a reminder, no matter how much she tried to forget. She put on new clothes and ran out her door to help in triage also.   
  
                                            ********************

Margaret sighed as she collapsed on the bench in the changing room. Fifteen hours of patching kids up and she was exhausted. She had made a number of mistakes in the OR, but luckily she had worked with Hawk most of the session so he was understanding. She stripped her bloody scrubs and sat there with her eyes closed another few minutes. Finally she decided she should go back to her tent, get some sleep. She was almost avoiding leaving the changing room.  
    The one benefit of having wounded was that she didn't have to see Donald all day. Now that it was over, she was worried she'd run into him. Or that he'd run through her.   
She went through post-op and out the back door, trying to avoid being spotted. A casual on-looker would've thought her covert movements as odd but she felt safer hiding in the shadow of a building to see if someone was there before moving on. She made it to her tent and sighed with relief. She entered and screamed in surprise. Donald was there on her bed. 'Oh dammit, half the camp is going to be here now, wondering why you're screaming at the sight of your husband,' she thought.        "Donald what the hell are you doing here?!" she hissed.  
"Well, I am your husband. Why do you need to ask? Can't I be in your tent?"  
"No Donald, you cannot. How- How can you even look at me after last night?" she asked, her voice cracking. 'God, no more crying please, I can't anymore,' she pleaded.  
"What happened last night? As far as I'm concerned it was a husband and wife making up," he sneered as he went over to her. He put his arms on her shoulders and suddenly she became small again.   
    'Why does this happen? Why can't I be Major Houlihan around him? How come I always feel so weak?' She shook her head, "Donald, you _raped_ me."  
"Raped you?" he cried out with a laugh. "Margaret, I'm your husband. We're married, it can't be rape."  
The tears were falling again. 'Was it rape?' she thought as she began doubting herself, 'I had said no... but he is my husband.' Margaret again shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts. She walked away from Donald and sat on her chair, avoiding the bed at all costs.   
"Margaret, I love you, you have to believe me," Donald pleaded. She looked at his eyes and realized he really did. She opened her arms and he gladly went to her. As she held him, something still didn't feel right, but she dismissed the thought.   
After they talked for a while, he bade her goodnight and left the tent.   
"I love you," he told her, pausing at the door.   
After a few uncomfortable moments of silence she responded, "I... I love you too."  
Guiltlessly, and with the confidence of his wife's words, he closed the door behind him.  
Margaret felt hollow, empty, from saying those words. She laid down on her bed and began replaying the previous night's events over in her head, trying to clear her confusion. She cried herself softly to sleep.  
  
                                                        ********************  
Hawkeye was on post-op duty, and Margaret happened to be the nurse on also. He took this time to try to talk some sense into her, to stay away from Donald.   
Unfortunately, it had been a busy shift and they hadn't really had time to talk. Finally, a few minutes before her shift was over they had time to talk.  
"Margaret, can I speak to you outside please?" he requested politely.  
"Um, Hawk, I'm a little busy, I'm off soon and I have to finish making notes, can it wait until tomorrow?" she asked, trying to avoid talking to him.  
"No, I'd rather talk tonight, Margaret. Please?"  
She looked at him and agreed, with a sigh. She was trying to forget the 'incident' (as she was calling it now) and she knew he'd only want to dredge up painful memories.   
They went outside the post-op door and Hawk spoke first, "Margaret, avoiding talking to me isn't going to make you feel any better."  
"Hawkeye, I'm not avoiding you, it's just been busy," she lied.  
"Yeah ok. But for now, please, tell me you'll stay away from Donald?"  
Margaret looked at him, mouth open. "How could you even suggest that? He's my husband for Christ's sake. How can I stay away from my husband?"  
"Margaret, I don't know what he's been telling you, but I know guys like him. He hit you once right? He _raped_ you the other night-"  
"Excuse me Pierce, he did not rape me," she interrupted him.  
"What?! How on Earth did he convince you that wasn't rape Margaret!"  
"Pierce, lower your voice. That was personal between myself and my husband. It's none of anyone else's concern. Understand?"  
"All I understand Margaret, is that he hurts you and that's unacceptable. He's been lucky it's been busy here, if I had run into him then he'd be in there," he nodded toward post-op. Hawk took a deep breath and continued. "Margaret, any man who lays a hand on you in that way doesn't love you..." he placed a hand on her cheek after wiping away a tear, "but you already knew that didn't you?"  
Margaret looked up at the man, tears running down her bruised cheeks and nodded softly.   
Hawk embraced her as she cried on his shoulder.   
"Margaret, you don't have to take this, you don't deserve this, you deserve someone who loves you but doesn't need to beat you to show it. Dammit Margaret, I wish I could take all this away."  
"Hawk, I'm just scared, if I leave him I'll be alone again, I was alone for such a long time and I didn't like who I was then, I don't want to be alone anymore Hawk, I just want to be loved, is that too much to ask?" she questioned with a laugh.  
"Margaret," Hawk looked in her eyes, "I love you, don't forget it, ok?"  
"I wont Hawk. Thank you." Margaret was slightly stunned at his confession.   
"Hawk," she said with a chuckle after composing herself, "We have to go back in, it's almost the end of my shift, what kind of example would I be setting for my nurses if they were to show up and I was no where to be found?"   
Hawk smirked. 'Good ol' Major Houlihan is back... hopefully for good." he thought as he held the door open for her.  
  
                                                        ********************  
Donald sat in the officer's club, sipping a beer, ignoring the chatter around him. Margaret was on duty in post-op for most of the day but she would be off in fifteen minutes. Most of the noise around him was mindless gossip, but as he heard Margaret's name, his interest was piqued.   
Two of the nurses were at a table not far from Donald and they were apparently filling each other in on the past few days' news.   
   "Oooo, did you see when the wounded came in yesterday?" the first nurse exclaimed.  
"Ooh, no girl I didn't, what happened?"  
"Well I had left my stethoscope in the tent so I had to run back for it. And as I was coming back, who do I see leaving Major Houlihan's tent...?"  
"Her husband?" the ditzy nurse guessed.  
"Noooo, that wouldn't be gossip then. No, it was Hawkeye Pierce."  
"Ooooo, that lucky thing, he's quite a lover I've heard."  
"Oh and you'd know?"  
"Well, I've been on a date or two with him..."  
The women's chatter faded back into the white noise and Donald soon tuned it all out. He gulped down the rest of his beer and slapped down some money.   
He exited the officer's club and walked a few feet before he looked over at post-op. He froze in his tracks. Until just then he had dismissed the gossip as just that, gossip. But there right in front of him was solid proof. That asshole Hawkeye Pierce had his hands all over his wife, and she didn't seem to be putting up much of a fight. After a minute they went back inside to finish the shift. They didn't seem to notice Donald standing in the middle of the compound. He trekked across the rest of the compound and entered Margaret's tent to wait for her shift to end.  
  
                                                    ********************  
Margaret had given her report to the nurse that was coming on the next shift. She walked out the door and soaked in the cool night air. 'Hmm, should I get a cup of coffee or just go to bed?' she pondered. Then she remembers what the coffee actually tasted like here and chose the latter. She entered her tent and jumped slightly at the sight of Donald waiting on her bed.   
"Hello Donald, wanted to wish me goodnight?"  
"Hmph, yeah, I say goodnight but that's not the end of your nocturnal activities is it?" he sneered.  
Margaret noticed her half-empty bottle of scotch next to him but proceeded anyway.  
    "Donald, I don't know what you're talking about but I don't like the accusation you're making."  
"You don't like the ACCUSATION?" he yelled as he grabbed a handful of her hair forcing her to look at him, "WELL I DON'T LIKE THE GODDAM TRUTH OF IT!" He tossed her to the floor and gave her a swift kick to the abdomen. "YOU CHEATING WHORE, HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?"  

    Margaret coughed and choked trying to get air back in her lungs. "I never cheated on you," she sputtered out as soon as she could breathe again, "I never cheated on you," she cried.  
He pulled her up to her feet, but she was on the floor again after his fist connected with her jaw. She had hit her head when she landed, and from the salty taste in her mouth, she knew she'd probably need stitches in her lip.   
"Donald," she coughed out after spitting out a mouthful of blood, "Donald, I don't know what you heard, I never cheated on you."  
He kicked her in the abdomen again, and then once to the back of her head.   
"I FUCKING SAW IT YOU LYING BITCH! I SAW YOU IN THE ARMS OF THAT, THAT... THAT FUCKING DOCTOR!"  
Margaret suddenly realized he must've seen them outside post-op a few minutes earlier. "Donald, he was just trying to comfort me."  
He took another shot of scotch and planted his boot in her abdomen again.   
"STOP LYING YOU FUCKING WHORE, I HEARD ABOUT HIM LEAVING YOUR TENT THE OTHER MORNING. YEAH YOU DIDN'T THINK I KNEW ABOUT THAT DIDYOU?" he kicked her in the chest this time, and she moaned hearing several ribs crack, "DID YOU?!"  
Margaret was rolling around on the floor, trying desperately to get to the door, to get to help. Luckily help came to her.  
Donald stood over her, ready to strike her in the face again when suddenly he disappeared from view. Margaret held out long enough to see Hawkeye pull him out the door before she passed out.  
  
                                                        *******************  
Hawk had called for a litter and he desperately wanted to run to Margaret's side but his rage was coming to a head and he couldn't wait any longer. Hawk punched Donald, knocking him to the ground swiftly. Hawkeye climbed on the man and hit him and hit him and hit him and didn't stop until two corpsmen pulled him off the unconscious man. Still he struggled to break away from their grips to try and get one last punch at the man who had caused Margaret so much pain. Hawkeye was in tears, his arms were so heavy he couldn't lift them after the beating he had just given Penobscott.   
A crowd had gathered now around Margaret's tent, gasps and cries rose from the group as two more corpsmen emerged from bearing the unconscious Major on a litter.   
"KLINGER!," Potter called out.  
"Yes, your Colonel-dom?" Klinger responded.  
"GET THESE PEOPLE THE HELL OUT OF HERE, THIS ISN'T A SHOW FOR THEIR AMUSEMENT AND IT SURE ISN'T FODDER FOR THEIR GOSSIP."  
"Yes sir!" Klinger agreed emphatically. Soon the crowd was dispersed and the doctors stood over Margaret's beaten and broken body, discussing the best course of action.  
"She's received several blows to the head, we don't know how bad the swelling is. But I can tell you, she's probably got some kind of internal damage in the abdomen which is going to need immediate surgery," Charles diagnosed quickly.  
The rest of the men nodded in agreement and soon Margaret was being prepped for surgery. Charles performed the delicate surgery with Beej as a gaspasser. Hawk just sat at her side holding her hand the whole time. Col. Potter and Father Mulcahy both spent the time pacing the room, offering to help when it was needed.  
  
                                                        ********************  


    "Hey... HEY! HAWK SHE'S WAKING UP!" Beej called out.   
Hawk rushed back to her bedside. "Margaret, how're you feeling?"   
"Like I've had the shit kicked out of me by my son of a bitch husband." she joked, grimacing in pain as she spoke. She knew she had several broken ribs from the kick to the chest and it wasn't easy to breathe. "Can I have some pain medicine Hawk?"   
"Of course, BAKER! GET THE MAJOR SOME MORPHINE!" he ordered.  
"Yes sir," she replied, already preparing the dose.   
"Margaret," Hawk said softly, "we had to operate. I was so worried about you," he brushed away a stray lock of her hair that had fallen on her bruised face.  
"Hawk, I loved him, I really believed he only beat me because he loved me, I thought that was the only way for him to show it."   
"Any man who would treat you that way doesn't deserve to be called a man. You don't show love by causing pain Margaret. You show love with kisses and soft touches and words, not by fists and boots." Hawk responded quietly, kissing her hand softly.   
"I love you, Hawk."  
    "I love you too Margaret." Hawk wiped his eyes.  
"Hawkeye, am I going to be ok?" Margaret asked after a few moments, her swollen lip quivering.  
"Of course you are sweetheart, how could you ask that? You have an entire family worth of doctors here working hard on making you better." the confidence in his voice was betrayed by the tears rolling down his cheeks.  
"Liar," she said simply, brushing away his tears, giving him a small smile.  Margaret received her dose of Morphine and had quickly fallen back to sleep.   
Potter, Charles, and Beej were all gathered around her bed, observing the exchange. Margaret looked like hell but she was more beautiful than ever in Hawkeye's mind. All present knew the severity of her wounds but Hawk refused to accept the truth.   
The doctors had patched her up as well as they could but her liver was lacerated due to one of the blows to her abdomen. The rest would heal, but the liver was a tricky organ. Sometimes it healed fine... sometimes it didn't. The kick to her head didn't help any. None of the doctors present were neurosurgeons, they controlled the swelling as much as they could, but it was touch and go. She could honestly go either way.   
  
                                                        ********************  
  During one of his brief breaks from Margaret's bedside, Beej pulled Hawk to the side. Beej needed to prepare Hawk in the event Margaret....  
"Hawk," Beej whispered, trying to keep his friend's attention, "you know her injuries, you know her prognosis."   
"Yeah, and I know that's she's going to be ok, I know it. I love her Beej, I finally admitted it to her last night. She can't d-," his voice cracked as he turned his back from her bed, "she can't go. I need her."  
Beej put his hand on his friend's shoulder, offering support. "Hawk, you need to accept that she could die."  
With that Hawk broke down and fell into Beej's arms, sobbing

                                                        ********************  
By that afternoon the swelling in Margaret's brain increased and she was unconscious  
again. Her deterioration continued and she needed to be placed on a ventilator. Her prognosis was looking more and more grim. If they couldn't control the swelling in her brain, she wouldn't make it.   
Hawk remained at her beside the entire time, never leaving. The nurses were taking her vitals more often now. They were monitoring her blood pressure carefully, it was slowly sinking. Her pulse was up, her heart trying desperately to deliver the needed blood to her organs as her blood pressure continually decreased.   
Soon it was 63/25. They summonsed Father Mulcahy. After a few minutes of silent prayer the nurse returned to take her pressure again. 52/20. Hawkeye was grasping her hand as tightly as possible, trying to will her back to life, wishing he could take her place.   
The nurse returned once more to take her pressure. Her eyes shot up to the Colonel and he knew instantly what it was. The nurse reached over and shut off the respirator.   
Hawk was too stunned to move for a moment, the past two years flashing before him, all the time they'd wasted fighting. Then Beej was at his side and Charles at the other. They each placed a hand on his back in comfort.   
Hawk reached over and placed a hand on Margaret's face, wishing hoping praying her eyes would open. But they didn't. She was gone.  
  
                                            ********************  
Potter summonsed the entire company of the 4077th to gather in the mess tent. There he broke the news, they senior staff circling the crowd to provide as much supposed as was needed. All were present, with the exception of Hawkeye, who was in the Swamp sleeping. The rest of the officers thought it best to sedate him.   
The next morning he woke, and along with consciousness came the memories of the previous day. He rose, tugging his robe on. He was still a little groggy from the sedative and he stumbled as he approached Col. Potter's office.   
Potter was on the phone with I-Corps, appraising them of the situation. Penobscott had regained consciousness sometime yesterday, no one really knew when since they left him laying there in his own blood. No one really addressed, him with the exception of spitting on him as they passed, possibly. He slinked away from the 4077th. Potter knew he was in need of medical assistance and sent out word of what had happened to the other units in the area. The only medical help that man would be getting would be from the Chinese.   
Hawk entered Potter's office and sat in the chair across from his desk.   
"Yeah... yeah... yeah... I've got to go General... yeah....ok, goodbye." Potter concluded his conversation, returning the phone to it's cradle.   
"What can I do for you son?" Potter offered.  
"I want to have a memorial service today Col."  
"That's a good idea Hawkeye, I'll tell Father Mulcahy to get started on it."  
"I want to give the eulogy."  
"Are you sure you're up to it son?"  
"I loved that woman. I'm up to it." With that Hawk left the office and went to Father Mulcahy's tent.   
Rapping lightly on the door, he entered.  "Father, um, I, I want to have a memorial service for Margaret. Do you think you could put one together for today?"  
"Of course my son, are you sure? Would you like more time, maybe in a few days?"  
"No!" Hawk exclaimed, startling the priest, "I'm sorry, I, I just want it today."  
"Ok then Hawkeye, today. Is 4pm ok?"  
"If you can be ready by then Father. But one thing, I want to deliver the eulogy."  
"If that's what you want."  
"It is. Thank you Father."  
"It's no problem Hawkeye. We'll all miss Margaret deeply."  
"Yeah," Hawk said softly, his eyes locked on the ground, trying to fight the tears. "4pm  
father."  
"Goodbye my son, I'll see you at 4pm."  
  
                                                        *********************  
Potter had passed the word around about the memorial service and everyone arrived in  
formal uniforms, tears in their eyes already. The Major may not have been the easiest to work with but she had always earned respect from her colleagues.   
At 4pm, Father Mulcahy stepped up to the podium which had been constructed hastily in  
the mess tent. "We are gathered here to celebrate the life of our friend, Major Margaret  
Houlihan. She was a woman of many talents and who never ceased trying to become better. Her life was cut short and the world was robbed of the beautiful person that she was." Mulcahy cleared his throat and continued, "Hawkeye Pierce has asked to deliver her eulogy. Hawkeye?"  
Hawk stepped up to the podium slowly. "Over the past two years, I've had the honor of working next to Margaret on a daily basis. We began poorly. I think of all the time we wasted fighting in the beginning and I wish I could have changed it. But slowly, we argued less, got along more. She became my friend. And eventually, I came to love her. I wish only that I had the courage to tell her sooner. Never be afraid to tell someone you love them, you never know if it could be your last chance," Hawk cleared his throat and took a sip of water. "I, uh... I saw what was happening, we all did. We chose to ignore it, making excuses like, 'It's none of my business,' or 'Margaret's tough, she'll get tired of this sooner or later.' I know I did," Hawk paused, trying to hold back the tears already threatening to spill over. "All it would have taken from me was one stupid ounce of intervention. Just for me to step in, be my usual nosy self," he confessed with a  
sad laugh. "That's all. And maybe she'd still be-," he paused, "alive. But I didn't. My conscience will never let me forget that. I don't think any of yours' will either. But I waited too long to step in this time, it's too late..," The tears were flowing freely now, Hawk dried them with a handkerchief Potter had handed him. "It's too late," he mumbled to himself. Hawkeye took a few seconds longer to compose himself enough to speak again. "Yesterday, at Margaret's bedside in post-op, I was able to speak with her for the last time. Luckily, I had enough damned sense to tell her then that I loved her. But also in that brief conversation, she gave me some insight. Something I want to share with you today. She tried explaining her actions of the past week, why she kept going back to Donald. She said, 'He loved me, I thought that his hitting me was how he showed it. When he beat me, it meant he loved me.'" Hawk took a moment to survey the crowd. As he suspected, everyone was in tears. Hawk wanted something to come from Margaret's death, needed something to come from it. He never wanted this to happen again. He came back to the present and quickly finished, "I guess he loved her to death."


End file.
